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<title>William Fuckin' Murderface; Emphasis on the Fuckin' by 51CKC17Y</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179200">William Fuckin' Murderface; Emphasis on the Fuckin'</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/51CKC17Y/pseuds/51CKC17Y'>51CKC17Y</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Metalocalypse (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom William Murderface, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader has a dick, male reader - Freeform, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:41:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>920</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/51CKC17Y/pseuds/51CKC17Y</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which you, one of many Dethklok superfans, finally gets in bed with one of the band members. To your dismay, it's not exactly who you had in mind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>William Murderface/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>William Fuckin' Murderface; Emphasis on the Fuckin'</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You suppose this all started when you, on impulse, weaselled your way into a dethstaff-only event. <em>T</em><em>he band should be there too</em>, you figured, and your instincts proved true just as your sneaky method of entry proved to be efficient. You haven't the slightest fucking idea how you got past the Klokateers... but, you decide not to dwell on it too much, brushing it off as just some dumb luck; you tend to have a solid amount of that.<br/>
Once you spot the band, who were each stationed beside one another at the bar, you consider heading over right away; and then you reconsider. You figure, it'd be your best bet to get one of them alone... so you wait. And you wait. And wait, and wait some more.<br/>
By this time, 20 or 30 minutes had passed, and by some force stronger than dumb luck, nobody had noticed you yet... For that, you thank your lucky stars. You thank your lucky stars, and <em>then</em> you start hauling ass, over to where the band is seated.<br/>
...Shit.<br/>
<em>Fuck.</em><br/>
Where the band<em> was</em> seated.<br/>
At the bar, there sits one lone William Murderface. Not exactly who you were hoping for; you always pictured yourself with Toki, or Skwisgaar, or... Someone other than Murderface. You bite your thumb, and for a moment, you think. Murderface is still a member of Dethklok. You could say you fucked someone in Dethklok without elaborating, right? Right.<br/>
You take a minute to hype yourself up, and you walk the rest of the way over to Murderface, then you sit down.<br/>
It takes a minute for him to notice you; he seemed to be in a haze, grumbling to himself and stabbing at the bar counter with his knife. Making marks in it. When he does notice you, he first squints, tilts his head to the side like he's curious. Then he blinks, and his face twists into a sour grimace. "What th'fuck do <em>you</em> want?" he spat. You decide to grin and bear it, leaning suavely on the bar counter. "I guess I'm just," you pause, and make a vague gesture around the room, "y'know. Around." You bring your free hand to the counter, tapping your fingers on the surface anxiously. "O..on an invitation, of course. Like everyone else here," you quickly say, punctuating your poor excuse for a sentence with a nervous laugh. So much for your aforementioned suaveness.<br/>
Murderface raises one eyebrow, seeming to find you suspicious. You silently curse yourself. "On an invitation, huh? Scho, you're schtaff?" He leans forward onto the counter, chewing on his already stubby, damaged nails. "Well, I-" you start to say, but Murderface waves his hand dismissively before slamming it on the table. "Well, schtaff or not, you're better than thosche no-good fuckin' guysch," he said, crossing his arms and sulking briefly, before throwing his hands in the air. "They fuckin' ditched me! Can you believe that!? Jeezche..." For a minute, you thought you saw his eyes start to well up, and he looked so small... Pathetic, even. <em>Poor thing</em>, you think. <em>Poor baby</em>.<br/>
You take this as an opportunity to soothe him, if not only to get your hands on him a little. To let him know what it is you're looking for. You rub circles on his back, to start... Slowly, you move your hand upward, toward his neck. Murderface does nothing, says nothing. He does, however, go rigid. You lean closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder and letting your free hand wander to his thigh. You squeeze, and he <em>whimpers</em>.<br/>
You can't help but let out a little laugh, which Murderface responds to by pushing you away from him and looking at you bitterly. "Hggh.. Look," he whispers, his tone harsh. "If.... if you wanna do thisch, it can't be here. We're gonna..." He looks around briefly, and when he looks back to you, you can almost see that imaginary idea lightbulb flickering to life in his head.</p><p>"<em>You're</em> gonna drive me. Schomewhere; I dunno, your housche. And.... and we're gonna ditch thosche fuckin', <em>douchebagsch</em> like they ditched usch! ...Me." </p><p>And so you ditched them.</p><p>You and William went back to the motel you'd booked for the night. Upon entry of the room (a little bedroom, with an even littler kitchenette), Murderface kissed you fervently. <em>Grossly.</em> Despite being somewhere in his late 30's, you could tell he didn't have too much experience with this, at least not in a long time. Murderface continued to try and assert his dominance, and you pitied him, because you knew he had so little. It was so easy to toy with him; to overpower him. And you fully intended to do just that.</p><p>You push him against the wall near the bed, and wedge your knee between his legs. He whines, draws it out, turning his face upward and away from your gaze. "Aughh, fuck.. pissch.. uh..." You say nothing, but you kiss and suck at his neck, making sure to leave little marks and bruises in your wake. You attempt to run your fingers through his gnarly hair, only to find it was too tangled; you take that as an opportunity to give it a firm tug, which drew another whine from Murderface.</p><p>You stop for a moment, and you think. Now that you have him wrapped around your finger, you're going to make sure you get your effort's worth.</p><p>You were going to make sure you had a great story to tell.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first fanfiction; please be gentle with feedback! There will hopefully be a second, saucier chapter soon... In the meantime, if anyone has writing requests, let me know. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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